My Living Shadow System Devours To Make Me Stronger Chapter 835 - 836: New Order In The Cracks

As the ancient proverb suggests, if defeating them is impossible, the only choice left is to join them.

Damon was fully aware that competing with Seraph Null in the realm of faith was currently a losing battle, given his limited time and lack of a massive following.

Consequently, he shifted his focus toward a different prize.

The core of his strategy was straightforward.

He intended to seize control of governance.

Governing a city required immense effort, yet total control over every corner was an impossible feat. There were always sectors a ruler had to forsake—not by choice, but by necessity.

Like many who held power, Seraph Null had abandoned the domain of shadows.

The criminal underworld remained untouched.

In places where poverty and suffering reigned, the resulting despair, terror, and helplessness gave birth to two primary forces. The first was lawlessness.

The second was religion.

There was no better soil for these seeds to grow than the Grinding Gate.

And that was precisely the harvest Damon was cultivating.

.....

Under the cover of night, a man moved with light, calculated strides, his features hidden beneath a low-hanging hood. He came to a halt as he slipped into the corner of a dark alleyway.

His presence was so perfectly integrated with the gloom that he was nearly undetectable, as if the darkness itself had accepted him and the night recognized one of its own.

From the opposite end of the passage, another figure appeared.

In contrast to the first man, this newcomer made no attempt at stealth. Even in the dim light, his silhouette was clearly defined.

He leaned against the wall, listening to the faint, distant cries of nocturnal beasts that echoed through the air.

"Are the rumors true?" the second man inquired, his voice remaining firm despite the eerie environment. "Is there actually a method to circumvent the brands?"

The figure cloaked in shadows remained silent for a beat.

"That depends," he eventually answered. "Are you truly interested?"

The second man let out a scoff, a trace of skepticism flitting across his expression.

"As if such a thing could be real. Even if it were, you’d be asking for trouble from the Archivists. I have no desire to end up in their crosshairs, now or ever."

"Heheh."

A soft, low chuckle escaped the man in the shadows.

"And yet, here you are," he remarked. "Seeking out little old me just to confirm what you've heard."

Clicking his tongue in annoyance, the second man rubbed his palms together to combat the piercing, bone-chilling cold of the desert night.

"Fine," he grumbled. "I’m interested. The crew up north is looking for a way to loosen the surveillance on their business. The usual stuff—smuggling food and mana cores."

The first man gave a slight, acknowledging nod.

"Say no more. With our influence and network, they can operate as they please. Of course," he added in a level tone, "I'll require a small piece of information in exchange."

He paused briefly.

"I need the location of the Black Crows’ leader."

The second man wavered, his jaw tightening before he finally gave a slow nod of agreement.

"Not that it’ll do you much good. Even if you know his coordinates, my advice is to stay far away. He isn't the most powerful figure in the Grinding Gate without reason."

The man in the shadows merely shrugged.

"I’ll take my chances."

He pulled out a branding seal.

At the sight of it, the second man went rigid, his eyes bulging in shock.

"That’s... a branding seal," he whispered. "The Chainbearers have been on a rampage lately. One went missing a few days back. The word on the street is that they found it on some random thief in the Gray Chain sector."

"Heheh."

The first man laughed, the sound dripping with arrogant pride.

"Let’s just say you have no reason to fret. This particular seal belongs to my organization. Everything has been settled."

Stepping forward, he pressed the seal firmly into place.

The second man let out a sharp gasp as the searing heat scorched his flesh.

"Deliver this to those who sent you," the first man instructed calmly. "With this, your brands can be purged. The replacements are fakes, crafted by our god of darkness and our great lord of shadows."

He tilted his head slightly, a thin, predatory grin spreading across his face.

"Holding onto this is perilous. But if you align with us, you will be granted food, mana cores, and safety."

As the rebranding process finished, the second man looked down at his arm.

The previous brand had vanished.

A fresh, strange power was now throbbing beneath his skin.

’They actually have a god...’

The man in the shadows chuckled again, pressing the branding seal into the other's palm.

"Keep it. We have plenty more. Work alongside us, and you will count yourselves among the new masters of Yari."

A bead of cold sweat rolled down the second man's temple.

"And what if I say no?"

The first man took a single step backward.

Behind him, the darkness began to churn.

A featureless figure of pure black manifested, its eyes vacant and freezing. It lunged forward, gripping the second man by the throat.

"I—I’ll join!" he managed to choke out.

The shadow dissipated instantly.

He slumped to the ground, coughing hard while clutching his bruised neck.

When he finally managed to stand with shaking hands, he retrieved a folded parchment from his coat and handed it over.

"That’s the Black Crows’ headquarters. All their elite combatants are stationed there. Your man is strong, I'll give you that, but you're facing a horde of veterans. They could have retreated deeper into the city, but they chose to hold this ground."

He swallowed hard.

"Better to be the head of a snake than the tail of a dragon."

The first man nodded, pulling his hood even lower.

"Good. That makes this worth the effort."

He cast one last look at the second man.

"I’m telling you this for the sake of our history. Do not betray the cult."

"You will meet a terrible end."

He turned to depart.

"That brand also functions as a tool for communication. You will receive your orders through it. Good luck."

In a matter of moments, he had vanished, consumed by the night.

The man left behind stared at the brand in his hand, oblivious to the thick, ink-like shadows gathering at his feet.

His heart hammered against his ribs.

It was now an open secret within the Grinding Gate.

A new power was on the move.

Initially, people assumed it was just another gang. No one paid much attention, save for the crime lords and syndicate families.

Then those families were transformed in a single night.

Only the most elusive hiders survived.

And the Black Crows.

The most terrifying part was that the Chainbearers and even the Archivists were completely in the dark.

Everything was unfolding in total silence.

In the shadows.

It was as if true masters of the dark had arrived to claim the city as their own.

"At least food is becoming more common," he whispered to himself.

Suddenly, a voice resonated inside his skull.

"Gatel Ambrose... look upon me. I am god."

His eyes stretched wide.

The brand glowed with a faint heat as the words took root in his mind.